


two hearted spider

by imaginedecember



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedecember/pseuds/imaginedecember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor was lightning trapped in a bottle. Michael tried his hardest to bust through the glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two hearted spider

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: High school AU - Michael is a football star and Trevor is the outcast.
> 
> Warnings: Mature only because of implied references to drug use, the knowledge of Trevor's childhood and mentions of blood and violence.
> 
> Title: Two Hearted Spider by Editors
> 
> Note: I may add more to this universe if people like it and if I can think of more for it. Thank you to those who will take the time to read this.

Trevor got obsessed with things. He felt a vicious elixir of too much, and too little and not enough.

Michael knew he felt too much.

His mother knew that he felt too little and not enough.

There was something about colors, too. Golds, blues and reds. As blue as the ocean. Sparkly and heavy as gold. A promise sealed in the form of a brick. And pretty crimson, slick and coiling. He never lost his vision of a perfect sky, a rolling tide, the big one, and the splattered blood of all those who dared to take his dream, who had the balls to call him insane. 

He never understood why Michael was drawn to him and why his mother loved to see him falter and break under her whim.

One whispered word and he would do everything.

For Michael.

For her.

He didn't understand how he was so goddamn weak to fall for things that called to him like a siren. 

All those colors, volatile emotions, and angels with burnt wings bubbling in a pipe was wrapped up and tied with a bow.

He couldn't help but open it up and let everything out.

Get stuck in it.

Like mud.

Let it drag through his lungs.

Allow the knife to crack his spine and pierce what was left of his heart.

He loved Michael.

But his package came with a ticking time bomb.

It was only a matter of time.

But Trevor loved blues and reds and golds and he loved pain and he loved to fake it and he pleaded for his wings and to believe that he was everything.

And he couldn't walk away.

Not from his mother.

And certainly not from Michael.

***

He was the kid that the teachers worried about to the school psychologists.

Pointed at. Sick laughter that reminded him of the pulse and vibe of a machine gun. But definitely not as pretty as the hit it took and the blood it sprayed.

Gawked at. He had learned a lot about facial expressions or at least the ones that dug in and latched on. 

He grew to have a thick skin and to turn the emotions bubbling heady and hot under his skin into something he could use to his advantage.

He was a wolf, alone and ready to snap.

Somehow, Michael bypassed all the looks, rumors and hushed warnings and slapped Trevor's back. He was laughing in his ear, a sound that crackled just like a pipe. But somehow more delicious. There was a promise there. Trevor almost choked on it. And Trevor fucking Phillips never shut his mouth or stumbled through a threat.

"That was a good trick you pulled on the teach. I never seen someone scared shitless like that."

Michael's fingers dug into the cigerette burned holes on the shoulder seams of Trevor's shirt. The kid didn't seem to notice until Trevor rolled his shoulders violently, shaking Michael away as if he was droplets of slick water.

"Keep talking and I'll pull it on you too." Trevor spun on his heel to face the other. It was a cocky dance he had perfected and Michael felt it ooze right through cracks in him that he didn't know existed. 

"I bet you could, T."

The nickname threw Trevor for a loop. But he wasn't no dog on a chain. He was loose and not afraid to fight for what was his. And this fucking shit fest of a school and even shittier town was all his. 

Straightening his posture, Trevor towered just enough over Michael to make him a shadow. But Michael just smiled, easy and lax, something that reminded Trevor of what summers should be and what Christmas should promise.

"Listen, _M_." Trevor curled the letter in a hiss. Michael barely missed the spit that came flying at him from the force of it. "Back off or prepare for your guts to be all over this shithole."

Michael barreled past his threat with another quirk of his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. Trevor tried his damndest not to focus on the color.

But it was like the sky.

And he was spiraling downwards. He tried to pull up, to stall, to grab a parachute and jump out before flames burst from the engine.

But he was caught in a dreamlike spiral.

His eyebrow twitched, a miniscule warning. Michael barely had time to breathe before Trevor was in his face, grabbing his collar and spewing insults right down to his core. He felt them rumble, felt the lightning crackle.

And, then, silence.

A huff, a turn, a grimace and Trevor was gone.

Swept up in a windstorm, Michael stood there in awe.

People crowded around him, asked if their favorite football star was okay.

But Michael didn't care as he finished up the bow on the package and spun the dial on the bomb until it ticked down from a minute.

He stood there and waited for the explosion, for the sound of glass splittering underneath his palms.

Closed his eyes and imagined a future where he could get to know how warm Trevor was beneath all that cold, rigid concrete.

He breathed in deep and wondered how Trevor would smell curled up beside him.

Muttered his name.

Yearned to know how it would taste.

And gave in to the fire and electricity that Trevor was made of.


End file.
